Dorothy Dale in the City Part 3

Still Tavia said not a single word. She now felt hurt. He need not have imagined she cared for his preaching, she thought. And besides, his tie needed pressing, and his vest lacked the top b.u.t.ton. Perhaps he had good reasons for wanting to get home to his "Ma," she was secretly arguing.

"You live in Wildwind-not far from the Cedars; do you not?" Dorothy asked.

"I did live there until last Fall," he replied. "But mother lost her health, and has gone out in the country, away from the lake. We are stopping near Dalton."

Tavia fairly gasped at the word "Dalton."

"Then why don't you go home for Christmas?" she blurted out.

"I am going to mother's place to get her first," he said. "Then, if she feels well enough, we will come back to the Birchlands."

"My friend lives at Dalton," Dorothy exclaimed, casting a look of admiration at the flushing Tavia.

"Indeed?" he replied. "That's my station. I ride back from there. I am glad to have met someone who knows the place. I was fearful of being s...o...b..und or station-bound, as I scarcely know the locality."

"I expect to ride in Daddy Brennen's sleigh," said Tavia, with an effort.

"He is the only one to know on a snowy night at Dalton."

"Then perhaps you will take pity on a stranger, and introduce him to Daddy and his sleigh," the youth replied. "Even a bad snowstorm may have its compensations."

Tavia hated herself for thinking he really was nice. She was not accustomed to being ignored, and did not intend to forget that he had slighted her.

"I almost envy you both," said Dorothy, good humoredly. "Just see it snow! I can see you under Daddy's horse blanket."

"It's surely a horse blanket," replied Tavia. "We cannot count on his having a steamer rug."

"I suppose," said Mr. Niles, "the sleigh answers all stage-coach purposes out that way?"

"As well as freight and express," returned Dorothy. "Dear old Dalton! I have had some good times out there!"

"Why don't you come out now, Doro?" asked Tavia, mischievously. "There may be some good times left."

The gentleman who had vacated the seat taken by Mr. Niles was now coming back. This, of course, was the signal for the latter to leave.

"We are almost at the Birchlands!" he said, "I hope, Miss Dale, that those boy cousins of yours do not get buried in the snow, and leave you in distress. I remember that auto of theirs had a faculty for doing wild things."

"Oh, yes. We had more than one adventure with the _Fire Bird_. But I do not antic.i.p.ate any trouble to-night," said Dorothy. "I heard from Aunt Winnie this morning."

With a word about seeing them before the end of their journey, he took his chair, while Tavia sat perfectly still and silent, for, it seemed to Dorothy, the first time in her life.

"What is it?" she asked. "Don't you feel well, Tavia?"

"I feel like bolting. I have a mind to get off at Bridgeton. Fancy me riding with that angel!"

"I'm sure he is very nice," Dorothy said, in a tone of reproof. "I should think you would be glad to have such pleasant company."

"Tickled to death!" replied Tavia, mockingly.

"I'm sure you will have some adventure," declared Dorothy. "They always begin that way."

"Do they? Well, if I fall in love with him, Doro, I'll telegraph to you,"

and Tavia helped her friend on with hat and coat, for the Birchlands had already been announced.

CHAPTER III "GET A HORSE!"

"h.e.l.lo there, Coz!" shouted Nat White, as Dorothy stepped from the train.

"And there's Tavia-and well! If it isn't Bob Niles!"

"Yes," said Dorothy, postponing further greetings until the train should pull out, and Tavia's last hand-wave be returned. "We met him coming up, and he goes to Dalton."

"Well I'll be jiggered! And he has Tavia for company!" exclaimed the young man, who for years had regarded Tavia as his particular property, as far as solid friendship was concerned.

"And Tavia has already vowed to be mean to him," said Dorothy, as she now pressed her warm cheek against that of her cousin, the latter's being briskly red from the snowy air. "She would scarcely speak to him on the train."

"A bad sign," said Nat, as he helped Dorothy with her bag. "There are the Blakes. May as well ask them up; their machine does not seem to be around."

The pretty little country station was gay with holiday arrivals, and among them were many known to Dorothy and her popular cousin. The Blakes gladly accepted the invitation to ride over in the _Fire Bird_, their auto having somehow missed them.

"You look-lovely," Mabel Blake complimented Dorothy.

"Doesn't she?" chimed in Mabel's brother, at which Dorothy buried her face deeper in her furs. Nat cranked up; and soon the _Fire Bird_ was on its way toward the Cedars, the country home of Mrs. Nathaniel White, and her two sons, Nat and Ned. Mrs. White was the only sister of Major Dale, Dorothy's father, and the Dale family, Dorothy and her brothers, Joe and little Roger, had lately made their home with her.

It lacked but a few days of Christmas, and the snowstorm added much to the beauty of the scene, while the cold was not so severe as to make the weather unpleasant. All sorts of happy remembrances were recalled between the occupants of the automobile, as it bravely made its way through drifts and small banks.

"Oh, there's old Peter!" exclaimed Dorothy, as a man, his stooped shoulders hidden under a load of evergreens, trudged along.

"And such a heavy burden," added Mabel. "Couldn't we give him a lift?"

Nat slowed up a little to give the old man more room in the roadway.

"Those Christmas trees are poor company in a machine," he said. "I have tried them before."

"But it is so hard for him to travel all the way to the village?" pleaded Dorothy. "We could put his trees on back, and he could--"

"Sit with you and Mabel?" and Ted Blake laughed at the idea.

"No, you could do that?" retorted Dorothy, "and Peter could ride with Nat. Please, Nat--"

"Oh, all right, Coz, if it will make you happy. I wish, sometimes, I were lame, halt and old enough-to know." Whereat he stopped the machine and insisted on old Peter doing as the girls had suggested.

It was no easy matter to get the trees, and the bunches of greens, securely fastened to the back of the auto, but it was finally accomplished. Peter was profuse in his thanks, for the greens had been specially ordered, he said, and he was already late in delivering them.

"Which way do you go?" asked Nat.

"Out to the Squire's," replied Peter. "But that road is soft, I wouldn't ask you take it."